


Tricks of the Trickster

by Cpt_Annette_Schmidt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: DFAB reader, Dunno lol, F/M, Fluff, Sweet, Tall Tales, depends where will the story go, may be part of a serie, or maybe not, probably not - just a serie then, raised by wolves, readable as one-shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-04-13 15:26:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14115309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cpt_Annette_Schmidt/pseuds/Cpt_Annette_Schmidt
Summary: The Reader got caught in a hunt with the Winchesters and out of all things, it had to be a trickster.Good thing that she had the courtesy to hunt down one or two in the past... But is this creature truly a trickster?





	1. To trick a Trickster

**Author's Note:**

> i have no idea what i am doing but i don't even care anymore...  
> disclaimer: my english may be kinda clunky, not a first language, so in case of typos and nonsences, leave a feedback in the comment section; also, suck at summaries so just go with the flow and let it go  
> Cheers, me mates

“I am surprised at you two.” Says Bobby, sporting such a disapproving look. “I really am. Sam, first off, Dean did not steal your computer.” He says, receiving a weak attempt for backslash from Sam, but the younger hunter is quickly cut off when Bobby’s eyebrows knit together and he holds his hand up and hushes Sam to continue his lecture. He then points at Dean. “And Dean, Sam did not touch your car.” Dean remains silent while Sam huffs in relief that Bobby knows that Sam was not the culprit. “And if you two had bothered to pull your heads out of your asses” he points accusing finger on both Winchester brothers “...it all would have been pretty clear.”

“What?” Dean asks, his confusion evident in both his face and voice. You expected Sam to enlighten him, as Dean seems like he’s losing the thread, but so is Sammy and it has to be Bobby who has mercy on them.

“What you’re dealing with, you idjit.” He says and starts pacing in front of the brothers while they try too hard to come up with… nothing. Sam humms in thought but doesn’t say anything and Dean shrugs with vocal affirmation that both of them are clueless. Bobby then stops and breathes in to answer and explain, but it’s you, standing in the doorway, leaning onto the frame, who speaks first. 

“We have a trickster on our hands.” You state simply and Bobby nods while both brothers look at you, not sure where you came from, or how long you’ve been standing there, until Dean nods with a smile.

“That’s what I thought.” He says joyfully and Sam’s head snaps, watching his older brother with disbelief in his eyes. “WHAT?” he asks and Dean turns towards him.

“No, you did not.” Both you and Sam say in unison. Although, where you remain calm, Sam sounds too irritated with his brother. Dean’s smile turns upside down and before he has the chance to talk back at Sam, Bobby steps in.

“You guys were a biggest clue.” He conduces and if anything, both Winchester boys only fall deeper into confusion the further the conversation gets.

It is Sam who voices what both of them were asking themselves. ”What do you mean?” he says with his usual turn and cock of his head like every time he demands explanation. You have to smile at that. On those hunts you undertook with them, you’d never seen them this baffled and if the situation wasn’t so dire, you’d snap a photo of them to mock them later.

Bobby’s pacing helps you get back to matter at hand and soon he speaks again.”These things create chaos and mischief just as easy as breathing.” Both Sam and Dean are soaking in all the information and you put a hand on your hip, waiting for their dawning realisation. “And it’s got you so turned around and at each other’s throats, you can’t even think straight.”

Then it hits them.

“The laptop…” Sam trails off for his brother to catch on.

“The car…” adds Dean and leans forward in his chair to put his elbows on his knees. He then looks towards you, thinking again “... but what about-”

“My head is clear, unlike yours, dear boys.” You take the liberty of answering before properly asked and Bobby again returns to where he was cut off.

“Anyway, it knows you’re onto it…” he pauses to stare both brothers down before continuing. “And it’s been playing you like fiddles.” Both brothers look up at him and you, ashamed of themselves. Dean however isn’t silent for long.

“So what is it?” he asks “A demon? Spirit? What?” he pushes on and soon you speak up again.

“More of a demi-god, really.” you say with a nonchalant shrug, reminding them of your presence, speaking as if powerful and dangerous creatures like this were no big deal. 

Bobby names a few deities the brothers could know and they nod in acknowledgement that they understand in what mess you all got. “There’s dozens of them” Bobby carries on and drags the attention of both brothers from you back to him. “They are immortal and can create things out of thin air. Things as real as you and me.” he pauses and you move in and around him to get a third chair to sit on. “Can make them vanish just as quickly too.” he adds while you settle on the chair throwing your arm over the back of the chair.

“You mean like an angry spirit, or an alien or an alligator…” Dean deducts and both you and Bobby nod.

“Beside all other things, yes.” You confirm and Bobby carries on.

“The victims fit the MO too… Tricksters target the high and mighty. Want to knock’em down a peg. Usually with a sense of humor.” Bobby says and you motion towards the file on the desk and Bobby stops. 

“Pranks that slay… quite literally.” You add and cross your legs, leaning back in your chair. You turn your head towards Dean who leans on the table to ask Bobby.

“Bobby, what do these things look like?” in what seems like an eternity even Sam moves and shakes his head, turning from Bobby to his brother, then to you and then back to Bobby again.

Bobby takes a moment to think about the answer. “Lots of things, but human mostly.” he says and you snort. They all look at you and you raise your hands in defence.

“Yeah… mostly.” you want to start explaining and Bobby gives you that ‘go on’ look of his. No need to prolong their waiting. “You see, some of them like to get up close and personal and transform to their heart's desire.” you know it is no laughable matter - and so thinks Bobby by the look on his face - but a memory of your encounter with a trickster years ago makes you chuckle. “Then go and try to negotiate with a talking horse on a unicycle about people’s lives…” 

You all just leave it there, perhaps one day you will tell them about such a hunt but you have more urgent case at hand. People are dying and your little wayward group has to stop it.

After a moment of silence, Dean turns towards his brother and puts a hand on the table “But, what human do we know that’s been at ground zero this whole time?” Both brothers slump in their seats and throw knowing looks at each other. Bobby is watching them with raised brows and you huff.

Sam’s eyes narrow and quickly widen in realisation of some fact that was nudging at the back of his mind. He looks towards you leaning on an elbow propped on his knee and motions towards you “So that is why you were always gone and sniffing around the Hall…” he says and you shrug dramatically with a smug smirk. 

“Told ya something was fishy there…” you start, your smirk fading “...but what i got? I was being called paranoid and crazy.” you eye both brothers before raising up from the chair to turn it around to straddle it and lean on the back rest. “But listen to yourself now, all the unimportant shite that got you fighting.” that struck a nerve and they look away, humiliated.

“But how do we kill it?” mumbles Dean under his nose. The look of concern he has plastered on his face melts the fake anger you showed them away. “You said they were immortal.” he reminds and runs a hand over his face.

“Well yeah, immortal but not invincible.” you straighten your back and smile at brothers to reassure them. “If they expect you, they disappear -that is their magic and key to a real long life…” you smirk and raise your eyebrow devilishly “but trick the trickster and he stands no chance.”

Brother’s faces light up and Bobby looks somehow proud of you and you smile. Your mind however does not reflect the flattery and instead it runs at full speed, trying to conceal your concern and insecurity. Yes, you had crossed a way of a trickster before, but this feels… different. Everything about the case seems somehow surreal, more than the last trickster business you got into, and all your senses are warning you that something is off, you just can’t put your finger on it and all the time you’d sport goosebumps and hairs at the back of your neck would rise. Still, more than anything you hope that you are just tired from the investigation on your own and overthinking and overall… wrong.

***

In the morning the boys went back to the university to gather some - if any - evidence, according to the plan, and in the meantime you and Bobby work on preparing all the necessary stuff you may need in the evening for the confrontation. Once finished with all preparations of stakes and guns, you pack them up and sit to drink your morning coffees. It tastes like shit to be honest, stale coffee forgotten by god-knows-who in the cheap motel room but at least it kicks you running like it is supposed to.

You look into the cup and eye the amount of coffee still in it and then quickly down the rest of the beverage. You make a disgusted face and sit back, watching like Bobby gets up from his chair and goes for the fridge to grab a bottle of beer. You thoughtfully follow his movements but do not catch on his question if you want some too. You wake up from the trance when a bottle of apple juice lands in your lap. You shake your head and look up at Bobby who takes a seat on one of the chairs in front of your sitting position on Dean’s bed. He looks like waiting for something and when you stare at him silent for too long, he sighs. 

“I asked what’s eating you.” he repeats plainly, taking a sip from his bottle. You fumble with the cap of your bottle and then take a sip too. It is too cold but so much better tasting than the coffee and you exhale in content. 

You hope that remaining silent will stop Bobby in the interrogation, but he looks like not giving up. “Hmm?” Take it as no then.

“I… it’s nothing.” you try to shrug it off but seeing his face, totally not believing you, you exhale and lean back, onto your hands and move your neck until it cracks. “I fear that this will go wrong and if it does, it will be my fault.” Bobby frowns at your words but you pay no heed to it and continue. “What if he’s expecting us. What if he knows that it was a rouse and we will be those fools to pay the highest price?” for once you didn’t have to fake your concern albeit your words are not completely truth. 

“Bollocks, it’ll be alright. You’ve been through this and boys count on you.” Bobby starts and walks up to you, putting a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you. “I know that this is some crazy hunt and you all are worked up, but we will finish it and then go back, hm?” he asks and nods and you smile up at him, mirroring his nod. You know you have to try harder to conceal your fear so instead you opt on taking town’s newspaper and read through all the articles, re-reading twice those that have anything to do with the case.

It doesn’t take too long before the door opens and Sam walks in, putting away his stuff and checking in what condition the equipment for evening is. It seems okay to him and he dips his head in affirmation, patting your shoulder and lays on his bed. Bobby gives you a small smile, one of those he keeps solely for you and convinces you to rest. You try to resist but he has none of it and you at some point give in and climb up Dean’s bed and before you properly huddle and get warm under the blanket, you fall asleep.

***

You sneak through the dark backstage of the university theater, trying to get inside the theater hall where Dean is, or so he at least is supposed to be according to his message to Sam earlier.

Ever since you’ve entered, you’ve heard muffled music and as you get closer and closer to the podium it got louder and clearer. As you got closer, something else got much more prominent. Your senses are attacked by a smell of something sweet and warm and the feeling of uneasiness is back and stronger. 

After long minutes of trying to not knock over anything and exploit your presence, you get close enough to the front, you reach the courtain. Still as silent as possible, you slide between the last two pieces of the heavy cloth and making sure you are still obscured by them, you peek through to see and hear.

“Look man, i gotta tell you, I dig your style.” it is Dean. You see him standing right under the podium, under a king sized bed. In one of the seats not far from him sits the janitor and watches as Dean’s eyes skip between him and two women on the said bed. “I mean- and the slow dancing alien?” both Dean and the Trickster laugh and you watch for anything out of ordinary that could mean any danger for either you, Dean, or Sam and Bobby outside.

“One of my favourites.” the Trickster says with myrth in his voice. Dean nods his head and his laughter dies off.

“Yeah,” Dean agrees but sighs and slumps his shoulders forward. “But I can’t let you go.” He finishes and even the Trickster’s face turns much more serious.

“Too bad,” the Trickster starts with slight regret. “like i said…” he cocked his head with a saddened expression on his face “I liked you. But Sam was right. You shouldn’t have come alone.” A somehow wicked smile finds its way on his face and Dean shrugs.

“Well, i agree with you there.” That’s the clue you are supposed to wait for. Sam and Bobby walk into the theater and you too step out from your hiding spot, straight into the limelight. For a moment, you are blinded by the light, but soon you see clearly everything in the theater.

“The fight you had outside.” The Trickster thinks aloud “That was just a trick.” Dean shrugs again and smiles smugly, proud of the plan working. Janitors face twists into an understanding grin. “Hmm. Not bad.” he finally admits and you and boys take out your stakes, sopped with different herbs and tinctures. The Trickster’s eyes slide over you and Dean and he leans back in his seat. “But, you wanna see a real trick?” he asks and tilts his head to the side. A man covered in rags and chains appears right behind Sam and raises his chainsaw up above his head. Just a short moment after, he swings it down at Sam, who dodges it, but only barely.

Before you have chance to even blink, Dean moves in to attack the Trickster, but two pairs of feminine hands pull him back and next thing you see is Dean flying aside, away from the Trickster. You swiftly jump in to aid Dean and before you know, you are caught in fist to fist fight of two on two with two sexbombs with surprisingly mean right hooks.

In between the beating of both sides, you hear and occasionally see how the Trickster laughs and cheers. You know not if for the fight on yours and Dean’s part of unusual battlefield or Sam’ and Bobby’s. His joy multiplies when one of the women throws Dean down into the rows of seats - looks like the Trickster is more interested in the catfight - and you are left on the podium to fight both women. Your advantage was your speed and heavy boots without heels but fighting two inhumanly strong women is tiring and you know that the longer the fight gets, the more your upper hand slips. But you aren’t giving up, that’s for sure. 

You have a pack to protect.

As Sam and Bobby fight the masked figure, Dean slowly gets up to his feet, trying to hold his composure, but he looks beaten pretty badly. For a moment you think that he will pass out. You kick one of the females away and run towards Dean to jump in and help him up, but the other woman grabs your jacket’s collar and yanks you back, wrapping her long arms around you, locking you in a vice grip with nowhere to go.

“Dean, Dean, Dean…” the Trickster stands up with unappreciative expression. You try to wiggle out of the grasp, but fail, although, you recognize that look Sam and Dean have plastered on their faces - they have a plan and means to get you all out. “I did not want to have to do this…” the Trickster continues and makes a step towards Dean. In the corner of your eye, you see how Sam bends down and picks up Dean’s stake. You yelp and kick the woman that holds you but the other one silences you with a slap. Your jaw stings but you got what you wanted, the janitor’s attention. He is oblivious to what Sam did, throwing the stake to his brother. Dean shakes off his probably faked daze and catches it. The Trickster looks at him in confused disbelief on what’s going on and his answer is Dean stabbing him in the heart. 

“Me neither.” Dean states as the Trickster gasps for air, his eyes wide and looking at the older brother and then the stake in his chest. Moments later, the light in the theater dims and the music stops. The man with chainsaw vanishes before he can cut Bobby in half and the hold the women had on you is gone when they disappear too. You fall on your knee, your chest heaving, trying to relax and shift your sore muscles from the fight. 

You smell the warm sweetness again and then it fades and only silence, dark and metallic smell of blood remains. It seems that it’s over. Dean pulls out the stake and the janitor’s body collapses back into his seat, lifeless. You hear boys exhale and loosen up, basking in the extasic feeling of another won fight. 

Without any further words, you gather your things and prepare to leave. You all know it’s just about time to do so before anybody comes in. “You guys okay?” Dean asks as you climb up the theater stairs towards the Exit. 

“Yeah…” Sam responds and the looks at Bobby and you, seeing how disheveled you are before adding little just barely audible “I guess.” You humm in approval, straightening your clothing and hair. Otherwise you remain silent, thinking. A stir of air as the door opens makes you sniff in the sweet scent again and you look around once more. You’d swear that the body flutters a bit, but Sam’s calling out makes you jump and you realize what you all just did. You push the door open and quickly catch up the brothers on their swift retreat from the crime scene. Your mind swarms with thoughts and even though you know you reached the Impala, you are oblivious that boys chatted throughout the whole walk outside .

Sam tries to thank Bobby when Bobby climbs into the Impala, but he cuts him off. “Save it for somebody else.” he motions towards you and you look at him dumbfounded, shaking your head and he smiles sympathetically “just let’s get the hell out of dodge before someone finds the body.” None of you cannot disagree on that and you all nod like little children listening to a lecturing adult.

“You wanna ride?” Sam asks and smiles, his large hand resting on your shoulder in his usual attempt to soothe away your uneasiness - he can read you too well. You return the smile back up at him but shake your head with a shrug.

“Nah, thanks though.” You say, stepping away from him to allow him to open the door for himself. “My bike is at the bistro down the street. I’ll have a lil’ walk and Debbie’s apple pie before I ride into the horizon.” You reason and Dean pushes on if you are sure, but you just smile and nod affirmative. 

It is enough to calm them and all three of them swiftly tuck themself into the old Impala to leave for Bobby’s house to get together new notes in files and to look for some new jobs for hunters.

As the engine of Baby barks to life, you lean into Sam’s window to tell them your good-byes for now and as the backlights move further away you wave. When they turn around the corner, when you are sure they are gone, you look to your right and towards your motorcycle, standing mere few feet away from you. Your hand slides down your hip towards your gun and you pull it out and turn back to enter the building again. 

No way the body should’ve moved, but it’s better to check on it than be sorry later.

You silently make your way back to the theater and down the aisle stairs to the front rows where the body of the janitor sits and you glance at it, taking in every detail. The body was just… too dead for your liking. A chill runs down your spine and you feel eyes on you. Nothing around you as you observe the theater hall, but the feeling just doesn’t let go. You feel like it’s not over yet.

“So, you’re gonna show up or nah?” You ask, looking up and down the rows of seats. “Or should I wake the princess with a kiss?” You lean towards the body. More than hear or feel him appearing, you smell the warm sweetness again and your grip on your gun tightens. Your back straightens and you slightly bump into him as you stand up like if he was leaning over your shoulder, watching the body in front of you just as you were. You then slowly turn around. Surprised that he didn’t attack you, somehow pleasantly so, you cringe as you face him, standing so close that your noses are almost touching. He smiles and pulls a chocolate bar from his pocket, taking a bite. The body behind you disappears like all other illusions and you sniff in the scent.

In the warm sweetness you are able to recognise salted caramel, nougat, male musk and… something you couldn’t wrap your head around. You make a bit of room between your bodies by backing up slightly and put your gun behind the waistband of your pants.

He points the chocolate bar at you and you dodge it so it won’t smudge over your face. He chuckles and your brow raises. “Clever you are, sweetcheeks.” he says and your arms cross defensively at the look he gave you. 

“Not clever enough to find out what you are.” You admit and look him straight in the eye. He shrugs and snaps his fingers and the light and music is back. Your eyes roll at his childish eyebrow wiggle and you somewhat relax. If he wanted to truly hurt you, he had his chance and did not take it. You sit on the armrest of the seat behind you and prop your hands on both your sides, absentmindedly swaying back and forth to the rhythm. At his lack of response, you decided to push it. “I sure know that you ain’t no trickster…” he looks at you and then nod with another chuckle and bite of his chocolate bar.

“What gave me away?” he asks, tilting his head to the side slightly. You make a smug face and sniff the air.

“You are too sweet to be a Trickster…” You say with a smirk. His brows furrow and a small ‘oh?’ leaves his lips, followed by a toothy grin and another eyebrow wiggle. You laugh at that a bit and don’t even try to stop yourself. You however try to explain your exclamation further. “I’ve met a duo of tricksters before… Your smell is sweet, unlike their… aroma… of rotting teeth, bile and diabetic old people…” you trail off and shiver a bit in rememberance of your past encounter with tricksters.

“And what if I am just good at hiding it?” he asks and leans closer. You sneer at the sudden change of the smell of his breath, matching your description, but you can still smell HIM in it, hidden, but still there.

“Nice try, but you can’t hide what you are behind it…” He admits with a shrug this small defeat and everything turns back to moments before. You narrow your eyes when he leans even closer so and takes another bite of the chocolate bar. This time it smudges over your upper lip and you instinctively chase after it, stopping yourself before you can bite into it too and your eyes meet. For a moment you stare into his amber orbs, almost glowing in the dimmed colorful light of the disco globe. noticing how many shades of brown and gold they contain and how mesmerizing they are. Your noses are almost touching again and you slowly pull away and lick your lips, getting a taste of the treat. Sweet… How unexpected.

“What am I then, sweetheart?” His voice dips down to a purr that caresses your ears and you look around and behind where the body laid just minutes before, looking for nothing in particular, only trying to clear your thoughts, tainted by anything and nothing the man in front of you is.

“That i’m dying to know…” You turn back to him and notice how his clothing has changed from janitor’s uniform into more casual look with simple jeans, dark colored shirt and jacket. He takes last bite of the chocolate and snaps his fingers. The packing disappears and in its place a green lollipop appears. He wastes no time, plopping it into his mouth. “Not literally though…” You appear thoughtful, remembering the events of past few days. “Wouldn’t want to be eaten by an alligator or slow-danced to death by little grey fucks.” You laugh at your own joke and even he finds it amusing.

When he pulls the lollipop out of his mouth with quite loud satisfied pop, you prop your hands back beside your body and lean closer, looking into his eyes, searching for an answer. Instead of answer, you find yourself drowning in the colorful golden tinted mix. As you lean closer and closer, your eyes narrow and your lips part as to ask another question, but only a shallow breath leaves them. 

As if tangled in the same spell he caught you into, he watches you intently and soon his hand reaches up and as if not to scare you away, his fingers leave featherlight touches on your jaw. “In due time you will find out, my sweetest pretty thing.” His voice dips even lower, into barely audible whisper. His gaze swiftly slides down your features to pause on your lips for a fleeting moment before shifting back up to lock your eyes again. He smiles smugly when he notices your eyes mirrored his and then he closes the little bit of space between your lips and everything comes crashing down at you in that moment.

The kiss is brief but intense. Its sweetness is too much yet not enough. It is cold as kiss of death yet searingly hot, burning and freezing the sensitive skin of your lips. You hate it to your core, yet you crave more, surging with need. Your eyes slip close to allow your mind to try and tell apart all you feel, but suddenly, it’s gone. You hear a rustle, sounding almost like a ruffle of feathered wings, and your eyes flash open, just to find dark, silent and empty theater hall. Your senses scream for anything to hold on to, trying to clarify what is real and what not, but anything you can think of is the lingering smell, taste and feel of his skin on yours and for the first time in your life, you feel truly and utterly lost. Your knees buckle and you fall inbetween them, your figure slumping forward onto your hands.

For minutes that feel like hours you sit there and stare at the ground, until you start to feel a bit like your usual self. You stand on your weak legs and make your way outside slowly. On the fresh air where you breathe freely you shake everything off, resilient not to let it influence you any further. You jump on your motorcycle and kick her to life, leaving swiftly. 

The ride through the town is refreshing and as you reach the motel room, you feel good. You did not think you’d come back into the room, but you doubt that riding to Bobby’s place would be good idea as you are not sure what the good feeling is or how long may it take till it turns sour.

***

Your morning self may hate you for the restless night, but as you lay in the bed, time passing and dawn approaching fast, your mind going through the encounter all over again and again, you just can’t bring yourself to care a single bit. 

What a strange sweet thing...


	2. Fool him twice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After some time after your initial encouter with the man that goes by as a Trickster, you cannot shake the feeling of being watched...  
> Conflict of your heart and mind doesn't help things at all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... After months, i finally got it. Another chapter... That seems like it was sewn together of completely random paragraphs.... but well, happens... it does, right?
> 
> I feel ashamed, but if i put it out here, i will at least be at peace of sort... 
> 
> Last words, just enjoy (if possible) and any feedback is appreciated... i take even pooptalk coz i know that people know what a trash i am ^^
> 
> cheers

Even though you promised yourself that you will forget the night you hunted down the ‘trickster’ with the Winchesters and sealed the promise with a weeklong drinking spree, you couldn’t fulfill it. Whatever you did, whatever you felt, it only reminded you of the kiss. Thanks to that you’ve become irritated with yourself and angry at your inability to contain your emotions. 

Weeks passed and you were still out of your ordinary. Worst of all, you didn’t understand what were you feeling. But even though you didn’t feel like yourself, when a chance to hunt to allow yourself a break from your thoughts presented itself, you grasped it to relieve your cumulated frustration. Cases you took were usually easy jobs - salt’n’burn pile of bones or two to lay vengeful spirits to rest, fresh nest of vampires that were no big threats for you since they were still confused and weak - you almost pitied them - and a group of changelings. Then there was a naga hunt that almost got you knocking at heaven’s door when you just barely managed to create an antidote for their poison. How you got the last ingredient you so desperately needed was unknown to you - you were sure that you had none in your supply bag. Never look a gift horse in the mouth though - at least you were alive... 

But no matter the consequences of any of the hunts, you still weren’t able to forget and once the adrenaline rush wore off, you were left in the weird confusion again. And it went as far that you would swear that just as that night, you could smell the warm sweetness and feel eyes on you. You thought that you were going crazy, because whenever you took a thorough look around, you saw no one and nothing - until one day you happened to notice that someone actually was on your tail. 

***

You walk through the town, bag of groceries in your hand and your phone in the other. Your destination is a parking lot by a cinema and as you walk, you type a message in, writing the hunter that gave you echo about the naga that you succeeded. The sidewalk is pretty crowded for the time of the day - it’s just before noon - but you don’t mind. After the little fiasco with the naga that got you almost killed, you were glad that you had the opportunity to walk amidst others and the little social interaction you had with people, be it via shopping or simple looks and smiles of passing strangers made you positively happy to be alive.

You walk up to your motorcycle and open the bag by the seat, putting in your goodies. Your eyes narrow and your brows knit together when you inhale the smell again. A small shiver runs down your spine, ‘Here goes the feeling of being watched again.’ You sigh and shake your head. ‘My own imagination is going to kill me’ you think to yourself and finish packing. When all your things are secured and ready for the ride to the motel, you reach for your helmet and your phone slips out of your pocket, falling with a loud clatter to the ground. You kneel down to pick it up, cursing when you notice that the display is broken, crystals in it spilling and distorting everything.

You raise your head to look around for electronics shop. Your eyes slide swiftly through and over the stream of people going up and down the street and for a brief moment you meet pair of eyes that are focused solely on you and somehow familiar, standing out in the crowd. You blink and they are gone, just like that. You jump to your feet and look through the crowd again but the moving mass makes it hard to focus and you can tell that whoever was watching you is gone.

***

“Would you like to have your phone packed?” the cashier asks with a smile and you shake your head, handing her cash for your new phone. She accepts it and nods.

You purse your lips and look at her. “Actually, i would like to use the phone straight away, can I unpack it here and turn it on?” You ask back, tilting your head a bit to the side. The cashier hands you receipt and motions you to a small table few feet from you.

“Of course, you can unpack it here.” She joins you by the table and looks around. There are not many people in the shop from what you noticed but a man somewhere in the front of the shop calls out for help to her. “Call if you need anything or if there’s any problem, now if you excuse me…” she says and throws you another smile, walking off towards the man. 

You unpack your phone and turn it on. Your eyebrow raises when you notice that it’s fully charged and you appreciatively humm. You get through it and just as with your old ones, crack through some of its functions to get off the grid. Your head turns and you stiffen when a breeze from opened door engulfs you in the smell again. You sneer and growl, exhaling harshly. “This has to stop” you mumble to yourself. You don’t even notice the female returning to you. 

“Everything alright?” She startles you slightly and you laugh a bit. Her smile doesn’t falter and you show her the display of the phone.

“Everything runnin’ and lookin’ goooood.” You say playfully. “Thank you.” You say and she turns with a little ‘you’re welcome’ to get back to the counter. “Uhm, miss…” You stop her and she spins to face you again. “Can i ask you if there’s a candy shop somewhere here? I’d kill for something sweet.” You smile and motion with your thumb towards the front door.

“Two blocks up the street and on the other side of the road.” She says without thinking twice and your eyes widen in awe on such a fast response. She laughs at your reaction. “They have the best ice-cream in whole New Orleans.” She adds and you nod and pack your things.

“Thanks again and have a nice day.” You part with a wave and she waves at you too, saying her goodbye. As you pass through the door, you catch another glimpse of someone watching you. As quickly as you notice them, they are gone and you turn up the hill to get what you want so you can be as quickly as possible back in the motel, your want for human interaction growing thinner and thinner with every passing moment.

You follow her instructions and come to a huge candy shop with different kinds of sweets. Inside you go through the goods and after minutes and minutes of walking between shelves you grab a few bars of chocolate with mint and liquorice straps. You pay and leave the shop, heading back down the street towards your motorcycle and then to your motel room.

You carry all of your bought to the small kitchenette and stuff the miniature fridge with fresh things and throw the rest on the counter. You search through the pile and take one of the chocolate bars, ripping open the package. You sniff it a few times and then throw it back into the pile. You rub your palms together, smirking to yourself. “Two can play this game…” You trail off and move towards your bed to check your other phones and laptop for new hunting jobs.

When you go through everything and call a few hunters, you have no sightings of your kind of weird, but you don’t fret about it. You were to tell them you are taking a few days off anyway. You jump into shower to clean the day’s dirt and leave reluctantly after more than half an hour the water starts to turn cold. You put on your favorite pajamas and dive under the warm duvet. 

‘Tomorrow’s gotta be the end of this…’ you think before you close your eyes to get some sleep.

***

Right with the morn you pack and go back to the center of the city to gather some information on an old mansion not far from the city itself - in which you initially wanted to squat in but felt weird about - and when your research is over - no weird sightings or tragedies - you give yourself a moment to think how to proceed further. You decide to take a walk to a small park, not far from the archive/library, all the while lamenting over the cash you had to spend at the motel.

The weather is nice, not a single cloud obscuring the beautiful blue of the sky and some other people, mainly with children and dogs, walk around, relishing in the weather just as you do. You find a nice spot in the park with a bench and sit down, pulling a few documents and books from your backpack. You file through your oldest diaries and few pocket sized books you owned just to realize that what you are going through over and over again is the case you worked on with Winchester boys and Bobby.

You abruptly close the diary and sigh. No use going through it again since you only want to forget about it. You sneakily take a peek around yourself and notice that by the border of the park stands a man, watching you intently. From the distance you can’t tell much, only that it is the same man from yesterday.

You stretch and pack your books into the backpack again and take off towards the main road you walked the day before when you dropped your phone. 

As you walk, every now and then you look into reflective surfaces to see that the man is not far behind you and your plan unfolds just the way it is meant to. On the main road, you wander aimlessly amidst the people that are starting to crowd on the pavement and when you feel that the crowd is thick enough you slip around a corner and into one of the side alleys.

You walk slowly, making sure that whoever is after you knows you are no longer on the main road. You round another corner and stop. You take out your hunting knife and listen intently, waiting for a moment when you hear steps in the alley and when you do, you curse and drop to your knees and hands, grasping you ankle in a faked injury.

“Somebody… Anybody!” You shout in feigned pain and grasp at your ankle with one hand and your knife under your backpack with the other. “Somebody please… help!” You continue wailing and wait until the man following you appears.

Quite some time no one comes in and you start to wonder if you afterall did not make a wrong assumption. Your doubt is eased when he steps into your view. You look up to him with teary eyes and force out a pathetic ‘help, please.’

“What happened? Are you alright?” he asks and steps closer.

“I… i think i sprained my ankle.” you say and wince when you move your leg. “... Nothing radical… I just... I can’t stand up…” you add and drop your gaze down, as if ashamed, nudging the dirty stain on your jeans.

“Here, lemme help ya.” he offers and leans in to drape your arm over his shoulders. 

“Thank you, sir…” you trail off, using him as a support. You cannot believe he got baited like this. You eye him suspiciously, still unsure if you afterall truly did not make a wrong assumption. Even though, you are too deep in your act to just walk away, at least you can dust off your acting skills...

“Don’t mention it, missy.” he starts and you try your best not to stab him right here and now. Whoever he is, his accent is terrible. “It is man’s duty to help a maiden in distress.” he laughs and you force yourself to join him. You sniff and you get your clue - you can smell the mint chocolate you bought yesterday and ‘accidentally’ dropped in the park today, on his breath.

You smirk. ‘Got’cha...’

Soon he has you up on your feet and stable and you smile at him. “You don’t even know how glad I am you are here…” You start and he mirrors your smile. It dies off when you twist his arm behind his back and put your knife on his throat, your lips by his ear. He turns his head, trying to look at you.

“What… What are you doing?” He cries pathetically and tries to force his hand from your tight grip, but you push yourself closer to his back and put a bit more pressure on the blade and he ceases his movements, waiting.

“Don’t try to trick me…” you snarl, your lips brushing his earlobe. “I’ve had enough of your bullshit.” You feel how the man in front of you shifts, his appearance changing to the janitor trickster from that wretched hunt with the Winchsters. His hair brushes your face and you cock your head to the side to look at his face from the side. He smirks.

Next thing you know is that he snaps fingers of his free hand and in an instant he is standing few feet from you and you hold… nothing. You put your knife down and straighten your back, narrowing your eyes at him, victoriously grinning from a safe distance.

“Sweetheart, you never cease to amaze me with your wits.” He steps closer and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning in in quite a childish fashion. His face is close and you cross your arms as well leaning back from him, holding your breath. “How could you know this time?” He asks and as you look into his eyes, for a moment your brain stops. 

Honey. 

Gold…

Your brain function returns to normal when he hmmms you to speak and you look him over, noticing the mint chocolate bar in his pocket. You snap it from his jeans and in his surprise you shove it up his face. His brows raise and his eyes cross to see the offending object in his face and then he looks over it back at you, knowingly smiling. “Like i said… clever.” he says, leaning back and you exhale, free to breathe again. “Tricking the trickster again…” he trails off, turning away.

“What do you want?” you ask, irritated, with his eyes off of you, capable of tone threatening enough. He turns back to you, and you move the knife a bit, to remind him that you are armed and impatient. He gets the clue and shrugs.

“Curiosity, sweetcheeks... Curiosity got the better of me.” He explains and your brows furrow.

“And why is that so?” You inquire, ever so slowly slipping out of your irritation into more cheerful mood, subconsciously copying his attitude.

“You don’t see every day such a sweet little rose with such dangerous thorns…” he slowly walks around you and you stand proud, trying not to fidget under his almost predatory gaze. “A hunter who isn’t blind or deaf, who actually pays attention…” when he stops in front of you, you hold your breath, looking straight into his eyes. “Tell me, how could you sniff me out of the crowd?” he ends with light tone. You relax and put a hand on your hip. 

“It is a long story…” you say and he narrows his eyes playfully. 

“Good thing is, that I have literally all the time in the world.” He replies and snaps his fingers. Wind is knocked out of your lungs and your head swims for a bit as the world around you shifts. You are sure that you will fall down, but a hand on your lower back stops you from doing so. When you come back to yourself, you are no longer standing in the alley, but in front of a small café definitely not in N.O. The trickster moves you onwards, his hand still on your back and opens the door for the two of you with the other.

You know that whatever is happening shouldn’t be good. You know that as a hunter, you shouldn’t be going along with him. But at the same time you wonder, how can anything that feels just right, be anything but what it seems to be? The warm sweetness engulfing you is met with the wondrous smell of coffee and tea and in an instant you just let go. 

What is the worst thing that can happen? The trickster can kill you. 

In such a sweet little café? Why not, as a hunter there are worse ways to go...

You try to frown at his antics, but his behavior sets you off and instead you smile and thank him, letting him lead you towards one of the tables. He holds you a chair and when you are both sat, a waitress appears and takes your order. When she turns to leave, he gets your attention when he clasps his hands in front of him.

“So… Story time?” He looks at you with a childish pout and you laugh. It all feels like you’re high. You’re not complaining…

He smiles widely and you roll your eyes and make yourself comfortable.

“Well, where do I start?” You ask and he shrugs. The waitress comes with your order and when you both have your drinks in front of you and sweetened to your liking, he leans onto his elbows.

“How about from the beginning?” You nod and take a sip from your drink, ready to start.  
At first you introduce yourselves - he introduces as Loki (as the Loki, the brother of Thor, telling you how much the Marvel comic is wrong about the god of lightning being so gorgeous and heroic) and even though you just feel that he is no Loki - in the meaning of a trickster god - you let it slip and proceed to tell him your story.

You tell him how your parents - hunters - died in a fire when you were a little and another pair of hunters took you in, proceeding to train you - after all, once in a family of hunters, you just have to at least know how to defend yourself. You tell him how your fosters were turned into skinwalkers and with surprising acceptance of other hunters were left alive and in the business, training you in a new way, making you the link between their human and their animal counterparts. You were re-trained to hunt like a predator they were and with that your senses were forcefully sharpened by harsh training, including your sense of smell. You would laugh at some of his silly questions about it, wondering if he asked them to take your mind off of these grim changes in your life.

When he asks about how you happened to know the Winchesters, your laughter dies off, your jaw stiffens and your fists clench. He shows empathy and has words of understanding and condolations when you tell him, that it was John Winchester and his elder son who - ignoring all other hunters’ warnings - killed your fosters. 

You tell him that Bobby apparently decided to take in another stray child, since Winchesters were already all grown up and you weren’t ready to live only off of hunter safehouses at all times, at least for some time before you just took off. He nods understanding when you tell him that it was Sam who convinced you to try and not kill Dean and their father when they happened to meet you once Sam got back into business. You tell him that afterwards, it was just regular hunter business. Every now and then you would hunt with some other hunters, including Winchesters (joining them much more after their father’s death) but mainly remaining alone for work, being easily capable of fighting by your own. Preferring it even… 

For hours you sit in the café and talk about everythings and nothings in your life and you are surprised how easy it is for you to open up. More pleasantly so when you realize that he listens to every word.

“Well and that is the boring story of my life.” you end and slurp on the remnants of your third drink. 

“Boring? Are you serious?” he asks in disbelief and you raise a brow. He points at you. “You did more in one mortal life than Thor did in millenia…” 

You clap in faked enthusiasm. “Yisss…. Now I can start wearing panties over my jeans and join the Avengers.” you both laugh at that and when you are done, you think for a moment.

“Speaking of mythology though….” he looks at you, waiting. “they say that Loki had three, if not more, weirdass children. Hideous creatures apparently…” you trail off and lean on the table with a smug smirk. He gets what you mean and shakes his head.

“Sweetcheeks, some myths are nothing more but myths.” he says calmly and leans on the table, his face few inches from yours. “Thought that you knew that. Afterall vamps ain’t shimmering in daylight, nor do werewolves turn into furry puppies.” 

“Touché.” you admit with a smile and look out of the window. You notice that it is getting late and he soon voices your thoughts out.

“It’s getting late and as long i’d love to keep you as a company for the night, I think you may want to be back in your hotel room.” he tells you and when you look at him to sass on his implying remark, he wiggles his eyebrows, topping the joke.

As a gentleman, he pays for what you drank and ate and gets up to get your jacket. He stands above you and gives you a hand to help you from your seat. With a hand on your lower back again he leads you out. 

Once outside, he snaps his fingers and the world shifts again. When he steadies you, instead of the dirty back alley, you stand in front of the motel you have a room booked in. To your right stands your wonderous motorbike and you silently thank him.

He walks you to your room and you unlock the door, turning around to face him once the door is open. He smiles sweetly and for a moment you just stand there and stare, not caring about anything. It’s him who breaks the silence.

“I feel honored that you’d want to burn holes in me with those beautiful eyes of yours, but you look tired and I have a few pranks to execute, so if you’d allow me…” he trails off and you blink out of your trance and look at him slightly confused. You feel the tiredness sinking in and you nod, unsure of your ability to speak. 

You turn to step inside, before stopping and turning back at him. “Thank you… For a great time.” You smile and so does he, his eyes twinkling. 

“For you, anything.” He winks at you and bows dramatically and you laugh. In the blink of an eye, he’s gone with a sound of strange flutter and you are left with nothing but your thoughts.

You close the door and head towards the bathroom to get ready for bed. The further you walk away from the door, the more realization dawns on you. With every step you frown more and more. Your plan was to stop the creature, to destroy it after learning about its origin and species - you still weren’t falling for the Trickster lie - and instead you started to fall for the man. Instead of fighting, you’ve let him charm you and play with those feelings you were so not accustomed to…

You wanted to scream and destroy things and only thing you managed to do, was to turn your frown upside down and shower and head off to sleep with a weirdest of smiles plastered on your face, ready to come up with another plan to catch the man, certain that he will keep watching you like a guardian angel of sorts...


End file.
